Sundays

Dammit. I hate Sundays. I should have gone out. Further than the garden. Rapid indecision followed total failure to be bothered. Crap. And now the only thing on the horizon is a trip to the off-license for cigarettes and pretend beer.

Not complaining though. Well, not anymore. Sundays have always been like this. Since I can remember. Miserable. Like being on hold. There's a formula though. When it gets dark things tend to get better. Like a rescue ship on the horizon. So that will come soon. It takes its time though.

Yeah, I hate Sundays...